


Of the House of the King

by Rhaella



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 02:27:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhaella/pseuds/Rhaella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gildor loses his father to Finrod's oath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of the House of the King

  
  
He was not yet quite fifty when Beren found his way to the gates of Nargothrond — an adult in almost every way that mattered. Every way but one.  
  
"You know that I have to do this," his father told him, the words halfway between an admonition and a plea for understanding. And Gildor did understand… at least in theory. Responsibility, courage, and honour were concepts drilled into each of Nargothrond’s children, though he could barely remember what any of them meant.  
  
"Surely the King would understand if you changed your mind," his mother pleaded. “You have a young child, Inglor. You have always said that the Gódhellim did not believe in abandoning—"  
  
"I remember who led us over the Ice, even if the rest of Nargothrond does not."  
  
His tone brooked no argument, and an uncomfortable, angry silence fell over the family. It was only a matter of time before Finrod would summon his scant followers to him; even this respite was more than they had expected, and to waste it in anger—  
  
Gildor knew that he should have been proud. He should have rejoiced that his father could withstand the Fëanorions’ lies when so many others had fallen under their sway, but the thoughts that swirled through his mind were far from noble. _Were I even ten years younger, he would have stayed instead. He would not have chosen this mortal outlaw over his own son…_  
  
He did not speak the words, of course, but he did not need to. His thoughts were clear enough to anyone with the power to read them, and his father had been raised in Aman. Inglor paled, though he made no attempt to defend himself. “I am sorry, yonya," he finally said, and for once his wife did not chide him for his use of Quenya.

***

" _Indolaurë_ he was called in Aman, the golden-hearted. The name was truer than any might have guessed."  
  
King Orodreth’s words are kind, but Gildor can only nod numbly. He wishes that his father had proved slightly less honourable.  
  
"Before he left, King Felagund asked me to ensure that his followers’ families were cared for. He also intended to grant you the use and protection of his name. Gildor Inglorion of the House of Finrod."  
  
It is a great honour, and Gildor accepts it as graciously as he can, but it changes nothing. His father is still dead. He is not yet certain that his mother will survive the grief and horror of it.  
  
Orodreth studies him for a long moment, and Gildor worries briefly if he has offended him. He steels himself to be reprimanded for his discourtesy, but the king’s sad smile is anything but stern. “If you ever need for anything, know that you can come to me," he says instead, “and not simply because my uncle would have wished it." And for a brief moment they are more than simply king and subject — there is a certain unity in shared grief, shared bewilderment, shared helplessness in the face of a story that is bigger than any of them.  
  
Gildor thanks him again. This time he even means it.

***

_(Note: “Yonya" means “my son" in Quenya.)_


End file.
